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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851463">level of concern</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyheadspace/pseuds/chimera'>chimera (emptyheadspace)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akaashi is sick, BokuAka Week 2020, Canon Compliant, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, bokuto drops by, not my best work I'll admit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:55:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyheadspace/pseuds/chimera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he could even thank Bokuto, tears were prickling at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall and mar the cotton sheets that he was clutching at.<br/>A choked sob tore its way out of his throat.<br/>“Akaashi!”<br/>Bokuto’s eyes shot wide open as the setter buried his face in his arms, the hot tears running down his arm.</p><p> <i>Akaashi learns to let Bokuto in.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>347</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bokuaka Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>level of concern</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"'Cause I told you my level of concern<br/>But you walked by like you never heard<br/>And you could bring down my level of concern<br/>Just need you to tell me we're alright, tell me we're okay"</p><p>- <i>Level of Concern</i> // Twenty One Pilots</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi felt horrible.</p><p>He was so, so cold; every slight movement trying to adjust the nest of blankets around him only sent shudders wracking through his body. The room was dim and quiet, that much he was glad for, so nobody could see the terrible state he was in right now. He was an absolute wreck, and his miserable nose was dripping and everything was just slightly too loud — not a good way to spend a Saturday.</p><p>He buried his face deeper into his pillow.</p><p>Maybe if he just closed his eyes long enough the world would go away.</p><p>The door creaked open.</p><p>“For the last time, I don’t want-”</p><p>“<em> Akaashi </em>?”</p><p>Akaashi froze. </p><p>It couldn’t be.</p><p>“Akaashi, it’s me.”</p><p>Yet it was. </p><p>Shuffling slowly onto his other side to face the doorway, Akaashi rubbed both his eyes, trying to determine whether the hulking silhouette in the door frame was just a hallucination. His discomfort was momentarily replaced by overwhelming confusion.</p><p>Bokuto waddled slowly into his room, a concerned look on his face replacing the usually wide and bright grin splashed across his features. </p><p>“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, trying to force his hoarse voice out his throat. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Bokuto rushed to the bedside. </p><p>“We don’t have training today, do we?” Akaashi asked, panicking slightly. He didn’t want to miss any training. He couldn’t afford to. Not when they were so close to nationals.</p><p>“No, no,” Bokuto reassured. “I heard you were sick so I came over and your mom let me in.”</p><p>Akaashi fell silent.</p><p>That was strangely endearing but also incredibly stupid.</p><p>The stomach pain was starting up again. </p><p>“What’s happening to you?” Bokuto’s hands flew to his face as he took in Akaashi, who lay curled up on the bed miserably. “<em> Are you dying </em>?”</p><p>Akaashi managed a weak chuckle. </p><p>“I’m not dying, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“Good, good,” Bokuto said, stepping back and heaving a sigh of relief.</p><p>“Are you going to just sit here and watch me be sick?” </p><p>“Of course not!” Bokuto brightened up. “I brought soup.”</p><p>“Soup,” Akaashi echoed.</p><p>“Yeah! Chicken soup, or chicken <em> broth </em> actually,” Bokuto explained proudly. “I told my mom you were sick and she gave it to me to give it to you.”</p><p>“Ah,” Akaashi said.</p><p>“And I brought gifts and well wishes from the team, they would’ve come over but they didn’t want to disturb the peace with too many people,” Bokuto continued.</p><p>Why did it seem like the whole world knew Akaashi was sick?</p><p>“Thats...nice,” Akaashi said, feeling another wave of nausea come on. Flopping over, he clutched at his stomach, trying to will it away.</p><p>“Do you need any help?” Bokuto hurried to his side, trying to steady Akaashi.</p><p>“No, no.” Akaashi swatted his hand away. “I’m fine, I’m <em> fine </em>.”</p><p>Bokuto nodded, his face fastened into a concerned frown.</p><p>“You don’t look fine, Akaashi,” he mumbled.</p><p>“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Akaashi snapped.</p><p>Bokuto blinked.</p><p>“Sorry, I’m...just cranky,” Akaashi apologized, trying to get up on his elbows to face his captain. It was the least he could do after that sudden outburst. He could barely find it in himself to be mortified anymore, the dull throb at the base of his neck flaring up.</p><p>As much as he didn’t like the idea of someone watching him like he was some sick, needy kid, he didn’t want to scare Bokuto away. </p><p>“Don’t get up,” Bokuto urged. “Just rest if you need it.”</p><p>Worry was written all across his face. It was a strange look on the ace’s face, one of concern and fear and uncertainty, one that Akaashi was unfamiliar with. Those furrowed eyebrows and the pursed lips burned deep into his mind, but the haze of discomfort clogging his brain kept him from harping on it. Had he caused that worry? Had he made Bokuto worried? Everything was so unclear.</p><p>Bokuto stood there, unsure of what to do with his hands.</p><p>“I’ll take the soup,” Akaashi wheezed out.</p><p>“Really?” Bokuto asked, voice quiet now.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Bokuto uncapped the thermos and gingerly placed it in Akaashi’s hands, his own hand wrapping around Akaashi’s own and closing his fingers around it. </p><p>Akaashi’s face flushed from the brief contact.</p><p>The smell of warm chicken broth drifted out of the light blue thermos and filled the room, enveloping Akaashi in warmth. It was a pleasant and tasty smell, even to his poor stomach. He sniffed its contents tentatively, very aware of Bokuto’s eyes staring at him anticipatorily. </p><p>Then he took a sip.</p><p>It was rich and warm and flavorful, and Akaashi found himself taking another sip, and another. He hadn’t even realized he was hungry until he was practically inhaling soup, the warmth flooding his chest with a satisfaction that wasn’t there before. </p><p>“Is it good?” Bokuto asked.</p><p>Akaashi nodded, tipping the thermos further. </p><p>Bokuto offered him a small smile.</p><p>“Thank you,” Akaashi said. <em> Thank you for the soup. Thank you for being here </em>.</p><p>A warmth was blooming in his chest — and it wasn’t just from the soup. The air had gotten calmer and easier in the room, the hunger having eased. All this time he just needed <em> soup </em>, something warm and liquidy and filling but not enough to trigger his stomach pains. </p><p>As he looked over at Bokuto, who had sunk into a chair by the bed, Akaashi’s heart twinged. Maybe soup wasn’t the only thing he needed.</p><p>He could feel his eyelids drooping heavier and heavier.</p><p>He was just warming up to the idea of Bokuto being here. The real Bokuto was here, standing in his room, bringing his soup, visiting him, and making sure he was okay. He was actually here, not just some delirious product of Akaashi’s growing fever. </p><p>Akaashi didn’t want to fall asleep. He wanted to stay awake and hold a conversation. He didn’t want Bokuto to go. He wanted Bokuto to stay.</p><p>But he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t say what he wanted.</p><p>It was like all the words he wanted to say was choked up into a ball in his throat, and sleep was quickly taking over his conscious mind. His throat felt dry and sticky, and his nose burned from all the rubbing and blowing his nose. He could feel himself slipping away deeper into the dark, a fuzzy film closing over his eyes and shutting down his mind as he fell into an uneasy slumber. </p><p> </p><p>When Akaashi awoke, the room was significantly darker than before.</p><p>His head hurt. His stomach hurt. His back hurt. Everything hurt. </p><p>Panicking, he tried to claw his way over the bedsheets over to the light switch, a sinking feeling that he had slept through the day, but he found an arm reaching out to catch him.</p><p>Bokuto. Bokuto was still here.</p><p>“Careful,” Bokuto said, softer than ever. “You’ve been asleep for an hour.”</p><p>Akaashi rubbed his eyes blearily.</p><p>Bokuto was really still here, staring back at him.</p><p>There was something heavy sloshing around in his head, weighing down his entire being. The pain buzzed through his midsection and kept him pinned down to the bed, as if to remind him that he was still very, very sick.</p><p>“Water…”</p><p>“I got you.” Bokuto leapt up, grabbing a bottle off the bedside table. He carted it to Akaashi’s side, hand resting around the nape of his neck as he lifted the bottle to Akaashi’s lips and tipped his head upwards just enough to drink.</p><p>Akaashi was barely conscious enough to register the tender movements his captain was using, a far cry from his explosive and dramatic demeanor on the court. Bokuto was being so gentle with him, as if one little move might break him, and Akaashi might just agree with that.</p><p>Everything hurt so bad.</p><p>Before he could even thank Bokuto, tears were prickling at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall and mar the cotton sheets that he was clutching at.</p><p>A choked sob tore its way out of his throat.</p><p>“Akaashi!”</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes shot wide open as the setter buried his face in his arms, the hot tears running down his arm.</p><p>Akaashi doesn’t know if it’s the overwhelming fever or the emotions raging through his chest, but he’s crying now. He’s crying and it feels so damn humiliating and all he wants to do is curl up under the sheets and never come out again. Everything felt so cold but so hot at the same time, and it was driving him crazy.</p><p>“Akaashi…”</p><p>Bokuto’s voice sounded so far and distant, but Akaashi didn’t register it until he felt something warm and heavy pressing up against his back. Bokuto was whispering soothing words into his ear, an arm wrapped around his stomach, trying to feel for the temperature on his forehead and his neck. </p><p>“Go away....” Akaashi tried to push Bokuto away. He hated how weak and little his voice sounded. He didn’t want Bokuto to see him like this. So helpless and vulnerable and downright <em> pathetic </em>. </p><p>He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who was always there — not a mess, not weak, not defeated, not crying and curled up in bed. He was supposed to be out there, setting for the team, setting for <em> his star </em>, helping Bokuto get to nationals.</p><p>“It’s okay, it’s okay, you can cry if you want to.” Bokuto turned Akaashi around until his face was buried in his chest, where he could hold Akaashi until the trembling sobs that shuddered through his chest calmed down and went away, fading away into the quiet dim of the room. Bokuto’s hand was on his face, a brush of shocking cool against his searing skin, wiping the tears away from his face. </p><p>Akaashi was far too gone to even refuse the warmth offered to him, the welcoming embrace of Bokuto’s large arms opening up to him as he sunk into its depths, somewhere safe and familiar where the pain couldn’t get to him. </p><p>
  <span>The room filled with the quiet mingling of their breathing now that Akaashi’s heart was no longer thundering in his chest. His eyes were getting droopy again, and he fought hard not to close them, trying to turn his head to look at Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was scared. Scared that Bokuto would be gone the next time he woke up. Scared that Bokuto had already changed his mind. Scared that Bokuto would see him as the small and scared creature he thought he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” Bokuto whispered, nestling one hand in Akaashi’s hair and another on the small of his back. “I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>Akaashi could only nod.</p><p>Bokuto’s arms felt secure around him, felt like a sanctuary away from the woes and the emotions he had been caging up in himself for so damn long. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. They were going to be okay.</p><p>He no longer tried to push Bokuto away.</p><p>It was time he let someone in after all.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I missed day 7 lmao and went straight to day 8 but I'm back</p><p>check out my other bokuaka week works <a href="https://emptyheadspace.tumblr.com/post/625261318908346368/bokuaka-week-works">here</a></p><p>here's my <a href="https://thegildedraven.carrd.co">socials</a> and my other <a href="https://emptyheadspace.tumblr.com/completedworks">works</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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